


Echoes

by Minted_Midas



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bromance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Face your dead trope, Friendship, Gen, Magic Revealed, Season 4-5 Timeframe, There's fluff too I promise, This was meant to be a lot more light-hearted but I’m a melodramatic bitch so here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23698411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minted_Midas/pseuds/Minted_Midas
Summary: When Arthur and his men stumble into the domain of a malicious spirit, they are confronted with their past in a more literal way than any of them had ever dared consider. No one is free of secrets, but some have more to hide than others.How will their loyalties fall when face-to-face with those whose deaths they are responsible for?
Relationships: Canon Relationships - Relationship, Freya/Merlin (Merlin), Knights of the Round Table & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 147
Kudos: 809





	1. A Gift

The valley seemed to hum with life as Arthur carved a path through the dense vegetation. Moss blanketed the ravine walls and the leaves held a near unnatural vibrance. Even the air seemed unusually thick. However for all the beauty of the place, Arthur couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. He swore he hadn’t heard so much as a bird since they’d entered the forest and the silence was starting to make him uneasy; a sentiment seemingly shared by the rest of his knights. Only Merlin seemed unfazed.

Arthur internalised an eye roll. Even after all these years, he’d yet to decide if Merlin was the most oblivious person he’d ever met or the bravest.

As they trudged on, the claustrophobic walls of the ravine seemed to ease out, eventually opening out into a clearing. Arthur stopped abruptly in his tracks, sending Merlin and Gwaine awkwardly colliding into each other. Elyan and Percival fought down a snicker as they moved to join Arthur and Leon at the clearing edge.

Upon closer inspection, perhaps ‘clearing’ didn’t do the area justice. White marble arches surrounded the circular glade and vine covered steps spanned the outer edges, effectively containing the elegant ruins. A round stone pedestal sat in the centre of the amphitheatre, dappled by light which broke through the towering trees above.

Arthur could hear gasps of wonder behind him. 

“Oh quit being such girls, would you?”, he teased, attempting to cover his own surprise at the decidedly out of place structure, before meandering towards the pedestal.

He’d hardly taken a single step when the air seemed to grow even heavier. An eerie hum filled the ruins and the marble itself felt like it was reverberating with some kind of energy.

“Who presumes to intrude upon my domain?” boomed an all encompassing voice.

The knights unsheathed their swords falling into a defensive circle around the unarmed Merlin, as they peered around frantically for the source of the voice. Upon seeing no one they turned their attention to their leader.

After composing himself from his initial shock, Arthur strode hesitantly forward.

“I am Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot, and these are my men. We do not mean any disrespect in being here, we are simply passing through”, he shouted in response, “I would humbly ask that you allow us passage. You have my word that we will cause no trouble.”

“That would be a first”, he heard Merlin quietly mutter, earning a murderous glare from the king.

“Oh truly it is an honour to play host to one of such high standing!” the voice lilted melodramatically in return, “I surely could not let you pass without a token of my hospitality. A gift, if you will!”

Arthur could feel the knights stiffen. It was almost laughable how often they had been the playthings of magical beings. By now they well and truly knew the drill.

“The gift I give is not an object but a lesson”, continued the voice, somehow speaking from a different side of the amphitheatre, “They say that the greatest knowledge comes of reflecting on one’s past.”

Arthur looked around apprehensively. Did all of these creatures have to be so cryptic? Was it a requirement for magical beings? They were really starting to sound like Gauis and quite frankly he’d had rather enough of it!

His eyes settled on the passage where they’d entered… Or rather where it used to be. It wasn’t that the passage had closed, it just simply wasn’t there anymore.

With a barely contained growl of annoyance he whirled to face the pedestal.

“And if we don't want this gift?”

“Well it is quite simple really”, came the all too enthusiastic reply, “Should that be the case, you will never leave my domain again!”

Arthur could feel the wave of dread and frustration that swept over the group. It was really starting to feel like they were a magnet for trouble.

“It doesn’t look like we have much of an option, sire”, Leon quietly prompted.

“You know for once I think he might be right”, interrupted Gwaine, giving Leon a teasing wink, “Besides how bad could their ‘gift’ possibly be?”

Arther sighed, “Sometimes I really wonder if you listen to a word that comes out of your mouth.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it”, Gwaine shot back with a grin.

Relaxing his hold on his sword, Arthur looked around the men, his eyes falling on Merlin, who seemed deep in thought. Although he could see worry playing across his features, he met Arthur’s eyes with determined trust. An expression mirrored by the rest of the group. Arthur felt a tug of pride. Looks like we’re doing this then, he thought with a subtle nod to his men.

“It seems we have no choice but to accept your gift”, Arthur resigned.

\- - -

He could almost sense the excitement radiating from the unseen entity.

“You honour me, your majesty!”, the voice practically sung back, “But let’s not get overzealous now! It would be hasty to give you your gift all at once! Let’s break it down a little shall we?”

Without a moment’s hesitation Arthur saw Elyan stagger forward, pushed by some unseen force onto the pedestal. The knights cried out in surprise, though safe to say no one looked more shocked than Elyan himself as he shakily regained his footing. Percival surged forward, running headlong into what could only be described as an invisible wall.

Swearing under his breath he beat his fists against the barrier, but to no avail.

“Save your strength little knight”, chided the voice, “Your turn will be soon enough”.

Elyan turned to them with barely held calm. “It’s ok. I’m alright.” he called, seemingly more to convince himself than anyone else.

Almost as if on cue the amphitheatre darkened. A cold wind swept through the pillars and Arthur swore he saw shambling figures in the shadows beyond them. The little light that remained was only enough to dimly illuminate the centre of the amphitheatre where Elyan stood, looking decidedly less confident than he had moments before.

He seemed about to speak, when his words caught in his throat, eyes staring fearfully to the ruined steps. Arthur followed his gaze in time to see figures break away from the shadows. 

Bandits, mercenaries, soldiers; Arthur involuntarily took a step back. But something wasn’t right. They seemed dazed and listless with glassy unseeing eyes that showed no sign that they were even aware of the knights. They simply stood, emotionless around the steps of the amphitheatre.

“What- what is this?” started Elyan, his eyes never leaving the smoky figures.

“You don’t recognize them?”, inquired the voice in feigned innocence, “Why, they are your past, your legacy. To put it simply, they are the people whose deaths you are responsible for…”

“What-”

“They will not harm you. Some may speak, should they have a meaningful enough message, but for the most part they are harmless. I only wish to show you the impact of your path through this world. Now what say you noble knight?”

Elyan seemed to steel his gaze as his eyes passed over the figures before him. Among them stood mercenaries and soldiers; men once filled with hate and hunger for power.

“I have never struck down one who did not give me reason to”, he declared, “All who I have slain have been in the name of justice and in the name of Camelot.”

No shadow came forth in disagreement.

Arthur could almost sense the voice’s disappointment. Regardless he felt his heart swell with pride at Elyan’s declaration. 

“As anticlimactic as that was, it seems you speak the truth and that I cannot fault”, conceded the voice condescendingly, “You may rejoin your friends.”

With a nervous smile, Elyan scampered back to the knights, visibly relaxing as the figures melted into the darkness once more. This isn’t over yet, thought Arthur grimly. He knew each and every one of the remaining men were thinking about who they would be facing when they stepped up onto that pedestal. And as nervous as he was to face his own ghosts, the looks of anxiety on some of his men’s faces left him less concerned about what he might learn about himself and more concerned about what he might learn about the others.

\- - -

He’d hardly begun to dwell on the subject before he heard Gwaine cry out in shock. Arthur turned to see the man being dragged to the foot of the pedestal.

“Woah now- Hey!” the knight yelled.

With a grunt he leapt to his feet, his usually carefree smirk faltering.

“I like a little roughness as much as the next guy, but a little warning would be nice”, he muttered, grasping to regain his composure.

He started as the shadows began to shift, materialising into ghostly figures once more. It immediately became apparent that their numbers were far greater than Elyan’s had been. Though much like Elyan’s, they appeared to be made up primarily of bandits and mercenaries. At least that’s what Arthur thought until a flutter of red caught his eye.

Standing apart from the dark figures stood a pair of Camelot knights.

His mind screamed that this had to be some kind of trick, but one look at Gwaine’s face told a different story.

Gwaine blanched, unable to meet his king’s demanding gaze.

“You have to understand”, he began, more quiet and serious than Arthur had ever seen him, “I’ve not always been on the right side of the law… “

“You killed Camelot knights!?” cried Arthur.

“I never meant them any harm, promise!” fumbled Gwaine, eyes wide and haunted, “It all went wrong. The path, I didn’t realise how narrow it was. I was just trying to get away. They lost their footing, and the path just crumbled beneath them. There was nothing I could do! I wanted to help but I froze! The drop… No one could survive a drop like that.”

Gwaine took a shaky breath, still not daring to meet the eyes of his friends.

“I’m not proud of the deaths on my conscience, but I cannot pretend that they are any fault but my own”, he conceded, voice uncharacteristically small.

Arthur’s gaze softened. A feeling of betrayal still squeezed his heart, but even he could hear the regret in the man’s tone. His mind filled with visions of a young and reckless Gwaine running up against the consequences of his actions for the first time. He’d long believed the man’s cheery exterior hid a different side of him. And for the first time, Arthur thought he might have caught a glimpse of it.

His train of thought was quickly derailed as one of the ghostly knights stepped forward.

Gwaine slowly turned to the man, his eyes not fearful but resigned and filled with regret.

“Sir Gwaine of Camelot, we do not look upon you in anger”, began the knight, earning a stunned look from Gwaine, “Although our deaths were at your hands, we understood the risks we took when we chose to serve our kingdom, something you clearly understand better than most. You honour our memory by following in our footsteps, and for this we thank you.”

Gwaine stared at the man, dumbstruck. His eyes seemed to burn with unanswered questions and remorse. But before he could even say a word the figures vanished into ash, leaving Gwaine to stare longingly into the empty darkness.

He turned to look up at Arthur, eyes searching his.

“I endeavour to make good on the mistakes of my past, but I understand if you will no longer have me”, he lamented, some of his old determination returning to his expression.

“Gwaine, you have shown time and time again that you know what it is to be a knight of Camelot. I refuse to let the actions of your past change that in my eyes”, Arthur replied, sounding more sure of himself than he had even realised.

Surprise and gratitude illuminated the knight’s face as he gave a shallow bow before shuffling awkwardly to Merlin’s side. The others soon moved to join him, even Leon, who until moments before had looked the very picture of hurt. Merlin shot Arthur a look of silent thanks. He knew the two were close, but had never really stopped to understand the loyalty that bound them. Sometimes he thought Merlin commanded more loyalty than he ever would.

\- - -

“Wasn’t that just touching”, trilled the voice, shattering the somber mood, “I can only hope there’s more where that came from!”

“Go fuck yourself!” spat Gwaine, Merlin’s hand resting defensively on his shoulder.

The voice only laughed in response.

As if for emphasis, Percival lurched sideways towards the pedestal, staggering slightly as his foot caught the edge.

Righting himself, he attempted to cast the group a reassuring glance. To his credit, he seemed the most confident of the three to have gone up thus far.

Again the darkness shifted and split to reveal the ghostly figures. Their numbers were similar to Gwaine before him and Arthur braced himself as his eyes scanned the crowd. Despite the knight’s gentle temperament, he realised that he actually knew very little about the man; a fact that made him a little nervous. Percival gazed at the shadowy beings with pity, but regret seemed far from his mind. 

“These warriors, skilled though they may have been, sought only violence and bloodshed”, said Percival, eyes never once leaving the shadows before him, “They sealed their own fates when they chose to threaten that which I hold dear.”

Arthur blinked in surprise at the earnest wisdom of the larger man. 

He couldn’t help but notice that a particular group seemed to hold Percival’s gaze. Their clothes identified them to be raiders and Arthur struggled to pinpoint just why his knight’s defiance was so directed at them. 

Seemingly hearing the king’s query, Percival took a step towards the figures, eyes filled with deep sadness and rage that looked so out of place on the man’s normally gentle face.

“What twisted creature kills in cold blood?” he exclaimed, “The death of my family did nothing to further your goals. The only thing it did was secure your untimely death! They were innocents!”

Arthur’s heart sunk and he heard a quiet “oh” from one of the knights behind him. Percival spoke little of his family and the devastating reason was becoming all too apparent.

The raiders’ faces remained unseeing as Percival sunk to his knees, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“No”, he reiterated, tone hollow with loss, “I have never killed without cause. Though some causes are bloodier than others…”

With a gust of icy air the figures vanished.

Silence filled the amphitheatre for what felt like an eternity, before the mournful knight rose to his feet only to be swept into the arms of his companions.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Percy I had no idea.”

“We’re here for you.”

The gentle giant blinked back tears as he let himself be held by the group.

“Thanks”, he whispered softly, “I’m sure they would have loved you guys as much as I do.”

\- - -

A shout of alarm broke the silence as Leon collided with the pedestal. Springing to his feet he held his sword up defensively, scanning his surroundings for any hint of danger. With barely a moment to collect himself, the shadows began to shift.

Arthur knew that Leon’s fears would be similar to his own. The man had been a knight for as long as Arthur could remember and he knew that with that came some unsavoury memories. So he wasn’t surprised to see the staggering number of figures that lined the steps. Nor was he surprised by those he saw among them.

Soldiers, mercenaries, slavers; Leon’s eyes passed over them all to settle on a small figure hidden beneath the folds of a druidic cloak. Arthur’s heart dropped in recognition.

“Why do you hate us so much sir knight?” questioned the boy, eyes wide and curious.

Leon looked stricken.

“I don’t- I don’t hate you. Uther did- I was just… following orders”, he fumbled.

An older druid figure stepped forward to join the boy.

“Your dedication to your orders clouded your judgement of what was right. When it came down to it, it was you who carried those orders out.”

“I was young-”

“Your excuses do not change what was done.”

Leon’s shoulders sagged, “You’re right... I let ambition and loyalty blind me to my actions, but I will try to be better. I know I can’t undo the wrongs I did to you, but I can at least ensure that it never happens again. I only ask that you allow me the chance.”

For the first time, the knight met their eyes, sorrowful and pleading. The older druid offered him a sad smile before melting into the shadows with the rest of the figures.

Leon squeezed shut his eyes, letting his chin fall to his chest. A moment passed before he looked up at the knights wearing an expression of remorse and shame. With heavy feet he stumbled back into their embrace.

Arthur huffed a sigh. This creature was tearing them apart. Every one of them had a heavy conscience, but to be reminded of it was shattering. Needless to say he’d never been more thankful for the close bond he shared with the knights. Most of them seemed to be returning more to their normal selves, shaking off some of the shell shock of their confrontations. Though the mood was still somber, it seemed that just their very being together bolstered their spirits. They’d gotten through the hard part.

Dread settled over him at the reminder that two of them had yet to step up. His eyes found Merlin across the group. It was only the pair of them left and it was easy to see that the other was panicked. Arthur paused. Surely Merlin wouldn’t be facing many ghosts. He’d hardly even seen real combat yet he looked terrified. Feeling Arthur’s gaze he turned. Despite his anxious expression, the man tried for a comforting nod, but it served little to raise Arthur’s spirits. 

Merlin didn’t _do_ scared, at least not that he’d ever noticed. Despite his unimposing figure, the servant was ridiculously good at keeping a level head or otherwise blatantly ignoring danger. For Merlin to look as worried as he did, something had to be truly wrong, and he really didn’t want to find out what. But like it or not he knew they’d find out soon enough.

Two to go, he thought grimly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first try at all this, so bear with me! I gotta say, I feel a little bad about being so mean to everyone (especially since this was initially meant to be rather silly), but at least it seems the knights are out of the woods for now. Next chapter should be up soonish (fingers crossed)!


	2. The Sins of the Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Arthur's turn to take the stage.

Arthur could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He whirled around, only to be greeted with empty air and a deep sense of foreboding. He took a hesitant step backwards.

He sensed it before he felt it; a powerful force against his chest. He had barely a moment to even register the blow before he was lifted off his feet, landing heavy on his back next to the podium. He heaved a gasp, momentarily winded.

“The king himself”, lilted the voice, “This should be good.”

Sitting up, he braced himself with his arm and glanced back to when his men stood, looking ready to jump to his aid regardless of the invisible barrier he knew lay between them. He shot them a measured smile, though he knew they wouldn’t truly relax until he was back by their side. Shakily, Arthur rose to his feet, trying his best to maintain the calm demeanor befitting of a king.

He scanned the shadows that filled the corners of the room. He knew what to expect, but even watching the other knight’s ordeals had not been enough to anticipate the fear that washed over him as the darkness began to move.

The gloom twisted and writhed, breaking apart into shapeless masses that shambled forward, becoming more and more human-like with every step. Arthur’s blood felt like ice as the steps of the amphitheatre filled with ever more figures.

 _I’ve been trained to kill since birth_ , he could almost hear a younger version of himself crow. Looking at the shadows now, he realised just how true that was.

As the shambling stopped, he dared to look over the figures before him. There was no denying that their numbers were far greater than any of his mens’ before him. While his younger self may have taken pride in that, Arthur could feel his face blazing with shame. He didn’t even need to look up to know that not all the figures deserved to be there.

Soldiers, mercenaries and assassins, sure; their numbers by far made up the majority and Arthur felt no qualms in acknowledging his part in their deaths. But it wasn’t them who made his heart twist. 

A band of druids stood huddled at the foot of the steps, eyes watching the young king fearfully. Their fear was only matched by a few ordinary looking individuals scattered throughout the crowd, but Arthur knew their faces all too well. Faces that, last he had seen them, had been contorted in anguish through a screen of flames. 

Arthur’s distrust of magic was no secret, but he couldn’t help but avert his gaze from those he’d condemned. While few enough sorcerers had been burned since the start of his reign, Uther’s desire to see magic wiped out had left his son with blood on his hands too.

“I had just wanted to heal my goat’s broken leg”, whispered the figure of a young woman.

“And I, my mother’s sickness”, came the plea of another.

“What was it about our way of life that so offended your people?” a druid asked, pleadingly.

Arthur felt weak. There were so many. So many that he’d struck down or damned in his father’s name. He hesitated. When had he started doing this in his father’s name and not his kingdom’s? He’d seen his fair share of magic, not all of it bad. Certainly not as bad as he’d been led to believe.

“I’m sorry”, he murmured, with a sincerity he didn’t realise he’d held, “You didn’t deserve this…”

He meant it. Somewhere along the line, his hateful feelings about magic had dampened. He wasn’t sure when, but it was something he’d never stopped to really think about. But despite his quiet revelations, sorcerers and druids were still persecuted by his laws. While mentally he’d relaxed his feelings about magic, he’d never actually expressed that, let alone demonstrated it in the way he treated them.

“Camelot once welcomed your kind and flourished for it. I fear my feelings about my father and my own apathy have failed you”, he declared solemnly, “While I’m not ready to fully relax my stance on magic, I can at least ensure everyone is granted a fair trial.”

The figures looked slightly placated, some looking relieved whilst others glowered at him in silent judgement.

“Your kind has hurt my family and my kingdom, but I have to acknowledge that the same was done to you. I refuse to let this pointless bloodshed continue! I won’t let your deaths be forgotten.”

A hush fell over the gathering and an older druid stepped forward.

“Change is coming Arthur Pendragon”, he announced, “Destiny says you will lead it. I can only hope that this destiny is bright for both our kind.”

Without a further word he disappeared back into the masses, the other druids and sorcerers following close behind.

Arthur felt anxiety settle over him. Maybe if they stopped saying such ominous things people would fear them less, he thought bitterly. His encounter had felt less final than all the others he’d already watched, and while he knew this wasn’t a test, Arthur couldn’t help but feel unsure whether or not he’d failed.

Arthur regarded the crowd with a sigh. It looked like he had some work to do when he got back to Camelot. Worse still, it looked like his ghosts weren’t quite through with him yet.

\---

The figure of a young man bumbled forward from the crowd, his face familiar and perplexed. Arthur regarded him with a cautious gaze.

“Why am I here Arthur?” the man questioned.

He heard a small gasp from behind him.

_Will?_

Arthur cast a furtive glance over his shoulder to where his manservant stood, eyes wide and sorrowful.

“I- I don’t-”, began Arthur, words catching in his throat as a second figure stepped forward to join him.

“The same reason I’m here”, echoed a face that Arthur would recognise anywhere.

“Mother?” 

“Oh Arthur, how much you’ve grown”, she breathed, expression filled with love. “My little king is all grown up. I couldn’t be more proud of the man you’ve become.”

Arthur tentatively reached his arm forward, mind overwhelmed and tears threatening to overflow. His mother took a step backwards, eyes soft and sad.

“You need to let us go”, she whispered.

Arthur straightened, troubled.

“We are only here because you blame yourself for our deaths. You believe yourself to be responsible for what happened to us, when the truth is far from that.”

Arthur froze, grief and frustration bubbling in his heart.

“How can you tell me that I’m not responsible? You would still be alive if I hadn’t been brought into this world?” he cried, before turning his gaze to Will, “You took an arrow for me! You know it should have been me!”

Will met his maddened gaze, expression sad and thoughtful.

“I didn’t do it for _you_ ,” he said surprisingly gently. Arthur didn’t miss how his eyes drifted to where Merlin stood, “I was protecting my home. They were my actions alone. I won’t have you blaming yourself for something I did of my own accord.”

“But-”

“Oh would you get out of your own head for once!” Will interrupted, with a smirk dangerously similar to Merlin’s dancing across his features, “You never could keep your nose out of other peoples’ business, could you? Let me rest without all your misgivings.”

Arthur opened and shut his mouth a few times, before turning to give his manservant a look somewhere between exasperation and misery.

He was surprised to see a sly smile on Merlin’s face. His eyes shone with unshed tears, but held nothing but affection for his old friend.

“Did you really expect someone I grew up with to treat you with any more respect than I do?” chided Merlin, lightly.

“As for me”, Ygraine interrupted, “My fate was sealed by the man who loved me and the sorceress he conspired with. It breaks my heart that you blame yourself, when it was their actions which tore me from you. I only lament that it did not get the chance to watch you grow into the noble man you are today.”

Arthur heaved a shaky breath, searching his mother’s eyes for any signs of unspoken resentment but found none.

“You need to let us go”, she repeated, “Let us rest easy knowing that you do not blame yourself for what you have not done.”

Arthur raised his eyes to meet her’s, shining with tears.

“I- I love you…”

“I love you too my son… I always will.”

Squeezing his eyes shut he let a tear run down his cheek, relief and grief furiously fighting to coexist in his heart. For so long he had blamed himself over their deaths. He’d never stopped to consider that perhaps they didn’t blame him. He let go. Let go of the blame that had haunted his mind. Their memory didn’t deserve to be clouded by his own self-pity.

Opening his eyes, he could just make out remnants of dust caught on the breeze. Figures still stuffled about on the stairs, but Will and his mother were nowhere in sight. He huffed a sniffle. Was this it? Was it all over?

Even as he watched, the figures began to melt into darkness. One by one they disintegrated into dust, blinking away until only one shadow remained.

\---

Arthur blinked in confusion. Nothing about her was familiar. The woman was young and slight. Her hair stuck out at awkward angles, yet she appeared to wear a gown worthy of a noble.

Before he could say a word, she nervously crept forward, hands fidgeting as she met his eye.

“Uh, hello” she began quietly, “I’m sorry, but I’m not here to give you a message. I know you don’t recognise me and I know I shouldn’t be taking advantage of this situation, but I couldn’t help myself.”

She was right. He didn’t recognise her, but evidently she’d died at his hands. Something wasn’t adding up.

“So why are you here?” he questioned cautiously.

Her eyes drifted to look at something behind him.

Arthur turned, confused, his eyes settling once more on Merlin.

In all the years that he’d known him, Arthur had never seen his friend wear such an expression of heartbreak. He watched as the man almost unconsciously moved to stand by the barrier.

“Freya?”, Merlin whispered, voice cracking.

“Long time no see”, she replied, trying for a smile despite the deep sadness in her eyes.

“I’ve missed you so much...”

“And I you.”

Arthur watched in stunned silence, his mind trying to piece together how the two could possibly be connected, let alone even know each other. 

“I’m sorry”, Merlin suddenly exclaimed, “I couldn’t save you. I- I thought you’d be safe!”

“Merlin, please don’t”, Freya soothed, now standing opposite him at the barrier, “There was nothing to be done. You showed me what it was to feel loved and for that I’ll always be grateful.”

Arthur froze, his mind finally clicking. A cold dread crept over him as he stared at the couple. What had he done?

“I don’t understand,” he fumbled, “How did I- I don’t even recognise you! What happened?”

Merlin looked up at him, expression guarded. Arthur felt a pang in his heart. This was all wrong.

“Please”, began Freya, “You can’t blame yourself. You were only protecting your people.”

He wasn’t following. How could this young woman endanger his people? While it was true he wasn’t a fantastic judge of character, he knew Merlin wouldn’t protect- wouldn’t love someone who meant Camelot ill. Would he?

Seeming to sense his distress she continued.

“I was cursed in my youth, forced to turn into a horrible beast at the stroke of midnight. I had no control over my actions. I don’t blame you for wanting to stop the bloodshed. Even my own people kicked me out. ”

Seemingly in explanation she held up her wrist. Clear on her skin was the insignia of the druids. Arthur’s heart fluttered. What had Merlin got himself mixed up with? Taking a moment to overcome his initial shock, he searched his memory for anything that matched her story. He blanched. She couldn’t be.

“The bastet”, he breathed, watching her carefully.

Looking away she gave a shy nod. Merlin looked ready to jump to her aid; barrier or no.

“She had nowhere to go Arthur”, his friend said, low and defensive, “I wasn’t about to let her burn for something she had no power over.”

Arthur felt wrong being on the other end of Merlin’s judgement. His manservant shouldn’t have to justify his actions to him of all people. So maybe he’d harboured a dangerous criminal. But try as he may, Arthur couldn’t fault his actions. It was just typical Merlin, wasn’t it?! He had no doubt that this girl had made him happy, and in truth it broke his heart to see what could have been.

“I just don’t understand why you never told me,” Arthur whispered, eyes searching Merlin’s, “Even after I- Even after she died, you never said anything.”

“Well I couldn’t very well just bring it up, could I?!”, exclaimed Merlin, tone uncharacteristically frustrated and sarcastic,” _Good morning sire, just thought I’d let you know that you killed the woman I love. Anyway, how hot would you like your bath water today?_ ”

Arthur felt his heart twist as he watched a tear trace its way down Merlin’s face.

“Merlin,” he whispered, voice heavy with the weight of his sorrow.

Freya looked desperate to comfort the servant.

“Merlin, you know he’s not to blame”, she murmured, “Don’t push him away. I know how much he means to you.”

“God I know, I don’t blame him really… I just miss you”, he floundered, rubbing his bleary eyes.

“And I miss you, but I have to go now”, she replied, “I have overstayed my welcome.”

Arthur started forward.

“No please, you don’t have to go!” he blurted, “This shouldn’t have happened to you!”

“It’s ok, Arthur Pendragon. Truly I bear you no resentment. In fact Merlin speaks quite highly of you. Keep him safe won’t you? I’m sure you know his penchant for trouble.”

Arthur hardly contained a huff of shocked amusement, before giving the slight, but surprisingly intimidating woman, a determined nod.

Satisfied she turned back to Merlin.

“I’ll always love you”, she said, hand pressed against the barrier.

Merlin moved his hand to mirror hers, eyes desperate to say so much more.

But with a sad smile, she was gone; scattered in the breeze along with the rest of the shadows.

Merlin let his hand fall as the barrier dropped, eyes fixed on the ground. Silence quickly filled the room.

“Arthur, I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“No, Merlin it’s me who should be sorry,” he countered, striding forward to rest his hands on his friend’s shoulders.

Merlin looked up slowly, before pulling Arthur into a tight hug.

Arthur felt his trepidation melt away, realising just how much he needed this. Sometimes he really didn’t know what he did to deserve Merlin’s loyalty. The man went through so much for him and Arthur quietly wondered just what else he’d missed about his servant. Pushing aside the troublesome thought, he let himself relax.

Pulling apart, the two regarded each other with a remorseful look.

\---

An awkward cough started him back to reality. Arthur whirled around. The knights gaped at them with barely contained bewilderment. Arthur shuffled awkwardly as he attempted to recollect his composure. It had been rather a lot to take on board, hadn’t it?

“Jesus fuck, man!”, burst out Gwaine, whose eyebrows looked like they had yet to leave the ceiling.

“Yeah, I’m with him”, added Elyan, “You really gotta work on your communication skills!”

Arthur huffed a dry laugh.

“Trust me, I’m really not sure you want to hear about my problems.”

“Oh come ’ere”, declared Percival, pulling him into a rough hug as he scruffied up his hair.

“Is that how you treat a king?!”, Arthur cried indignantly, not an ounce of actual anger in his voice.

“How about a prat?” called Merlin slyly, a cheeky smirk starting to return to his face.

“Oh don’t think you’re getting away scot-free either, mister!”, declared Leon, shaking himself from his stupor to ruffle the servant’s already messy hair, with a chuckle.

Merlin let out a squawk as he attempted to duck clumsily away.

For a moment Merlin’s eyes met Arthur’s, a quiet look of gratitude passing between them. Arthur smiled, in that moment he could almost forget all about the mess they were in…

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to squeeze Arthur and Merlin into the same chapter, but I got a bit carried away. The king has some serious ghosts that couldn't go unaddressed! On another note, I've been a bit slammed with work lately so the next chapter might take a while, but rest assured it will come!


	3. Blood on my Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin has a lot to answer for.

An icy wind howled through the amphitheatre, shaking Arthur from his contentment. He stiffened, watching as the smiles fell from the faces around him.

“And then there was one,” trilled the voice, echoing off the cold stone of the ruins.

Arthur had almost forgotten. Unconsciously his eyes slid to Merlin. The normally unshakable servant looked like he was about to be sick.

“Wait- No!”, Merlin stuttered, “Please, you can’t!”

“Merlin, it’ll be ok”, calmed Arthur, finding himself at his friend’s side.

He’d seen how the man reacted to death. Heck, Arthur often felt bad about taking him hunting after seeing the discomfort on his manservant’s face when he felled so much as a bird. He knew Merlin couldn’t possibly have much blood on his hands. The man was a danger to himself more than anything. Or at least that’s what Arthur had always assumed.

Merlin turned to him with a flinty gaze.

“No Arthur, it’s not ok!,” he gritted, eyes filled with shame.

“Wha- Merlin, they can’t hurt you. It’ll be over before you know it!”

Arthur had never been good at emotions, and he certainly couldn’t claim to know just what was going on inside the man’s head. But that wasn’t going to stop him from trying to support his friend, especially when he seemed in such distress.

“We’re right here for you,” he continued, trying to impart some calm on the shaken Merlin.

“That’s just the issue.”

Before Arthur could question what he meant, Merlin was yanked backwards with a yelp. Pulled roughly by the collar, he left a trail of dust where he slid along the ground before hitting the pedestal with a dull grunt.

Arthur winced unconsciously.

Merlin grimaced as he pressed a hand to the back of his head, seemingly distracted momentarily from his anxiety. But the lapse was short lived. Merlin shot to his feet, eyes wide and wild.

“Well well well, you have some serious demons knocking around in here”, chided the voice, its once sweet tone becoming more hungry and condescending by the moment.

“Don’t do this!” cried Merlin, his normally calm composure slipping further and further away.

Arthur exchanged an anxious glance with his knights, who were watching the spectacle with a mixture of concern and morbid curiosity. The king, for one, was beginning to feel a cold shadow of dread creep over himself. At first he’d thought Merlin was scared of the ghosts, but this… This was something else. Never had he seen the man so frightened; a fact he realised, shook him to his core.

“Please!” Merlin repeated plaintively.

“The rules hold exception for no one,” hissed the voice, “Do you fear the judgement of the dead?”

“It’s not their judgement I’m worried about,” replied Merlin stonily.

Arthur’s heart almost froze as Merlin’s tortured gaze met his.

“For what it’s worth Arthur… I’m sorry.”

\- - -

Almost immediately the shadows began to contort, their movements far more violent than before as they clawed outwards like caged animals. The darkness grew and grew consuming the entire amphitheatre, howling with power akin to a storm. Almost without thinking the knights shuffled closer together, eyes fixated on the blackness with dawning horror. 

Merlin stood, a lonely beacon of light in the sea of shadows. No, not shadows, Arthur corrected himself, _people_. People whose deaths were on _Merlin’s_ hands.

They filled every step, every space; even standing in judgment around the walls of the amphitheatre itself.

Arthur’s head span, breaths coming short and panicked. This was all wrong. 

“This is some kind of trick!”, he shouted, voice shaky, “If you’re trying to turn us against each other you’ve failed! Merlin is no killer!”

The voice tutted.

“This is no deception of my doing. It seems the lies come from one of your own…”

Arthur looked to Merlin, desperately hoping to see something that refuted the voice’s lies. But his friend’s face showed nothing but shame and fear. 

“Merlin?”

He didn’t so much as look up when Arthur called his name, eyes squeezed shut. Fragile had never been a word he’d used to describe Merlin before, but there was no other word that fit the man that stood before him now.

Arthur couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. He felt like he’d been punched. What had happened to the gentle boy he’d met all those years ago? Had that boy even existed at all?! To think Merlin was capable of such… destruction!

The rest of the knight’s looked similarly stricken, even Gwaine looked pale.

Sick with betrayal and confusion, Arthur let his eyes wander to the dark figures that stood before them.

They were many, though he was surprised to find them not entirely unfamiliar. A great number of them wore sigils identifying them to be Cenred’s men; men who Arthur remembered had made up Morgause’s immortal army. His confusion only grew as he spotted more and more long dead opponents; Sophia, the girl who had charmed and tried to sacrifice him, Aredian, the witchfinder, Valiant, Cedric, bandits, assassins, the list went on.

Arthur could only gape as he stared at the masses. These were dangerous people…. What did that make Merlin? 

“How?” he breathed, eyes not leaving the shadows.

Merlin looked about to speak when an angry figure lunged forward.

“How _dare_ you deny me my chance at justice!”, the elderly woman screeched.

Arthur started, recognising her as the sorceress who’d attacked him the night Merlin became his manservant.

Merlin eyed her coldly.

“It was not justice that you sought. It was cold blooded revenge.”

She scowled at him as another figure prowled forward to join her.

“The Pendragon’s have more blood on their hands than anyone!”

“They deserved to rot for their crimes!” cried another figure from the crowd.

“You would really protect such monsters?!”

Cries of revenge, anger and despair spread through the crowd like wildfire as more spirits caught on. The knights nervously readied their swords. Arthur only paled as clamours for his demise filled the amphitheatre. 

“Oh would you just LISTEN TO YOURSELVES?!” roared Merlin, silencing the startled crowd.

Arthur blinked in shock.

Merlin took a deep breath, a heated gaze on the crowd.

“You speak of justice, but all you know is bloodshed!”, he seethed, wearing an expression so out of place on his normally gentle face,“Your actions only drive a cycle of pain and blood! Yes, Uther wronged many of you, but you must be a blind soul indeed to believe his son to be the same as him!”

Arthur could only watch in awe as powerful foes squirmed under Merlin’s demanding gaze. The humble servant radiated what could only be described as danger.

“Arthur is the Once and Future King, a fact you would do well to heed!” Merlin continued, his voice unchallengeable, “Let me tell you, I’d not try half as hard to protect him if he weren’t at least a half decent man. By God, the clotpole isn’t without fault, but you did you and your people a disservice by not at least giving him the chance to create the kingdom we dream of!”

“So in summary, you would be saving me a hell of a lot of work if you would all just FUCK OFF!”

Arthur thought he heard one of the knights behind him squeak in surprise, but was too busy gaping at the spectacle before him to even mock. 

Merlin stood at the centre of the, now silent, amphitheatre, breathing heavily. His expression, cold and full of contempt. 

Merlin. His charming and, at times, downright idiotic servant was capable of far more than he creditted him. Somehow the seemingly innocuous man was the most dangerous person in the amphitheatre; if the looks on the faces of the crowd were anything to go by. Heck he’d protected Camelot from _all_ these people in the first place. Arthur’s mind was reeling. What was going on? What had been going on under his nose all this time? Above all, how on God’s green earth had _Merlin_ managed to be the greatest warrior to ever defend Camelot?!

\- - -

Arthur was about ready to burst with questions when Merlin’s eye suddenly caught something in the shadows.

His entire demeanor shifted. Arthur peered around, struggling to see through the dense crowd. Merlin, who moments ago had held such an aura of power, now only radiated horror and guilt. The man stumbled as he began to back away from the figures like a cornered animal. A voice spoke up from the crowd and Arthur swore his heart stopped.

“Have- have you seen my mummy?”

Merlin froze, mouth agape, shaking his head almost in shock.

Arthur felt his curiosity begin to give root to anger.

“The sky turned red. There was so much fire- So much ash!” continued the girl, starting to weep,“I told mummy I saw a dragon in the sky, but she didn’t believe me. He seemed so angry.”

The knights stared in horror as more and more people shuffled forward to stand by the girl; peasants and farmers, even knights, all whose eyes were filled with questions, but above all, fear.

“Merlin… What the fuck did you do?” Arthur heard Elyan fearfully mutter to himself.

“This was never meant to happen”, fumbled the guilty man, “I was so stupid! I made a promise. I promised to free him. It all went so wrong…”

Arthur’s blood boiled.

“Wrong?! WRONG?!” he cried, “What the hell did you think was going to happen?! You let out the Great Dragon! Were you out of your goddamn mind?!”

Merlin flinched as if he’d been struck and Arthur’s heart twisted unwittingly.

“I made him a promise…” his servant repeated weakly. 

Arthur heaved an unsteady breath, ready to tell Merlin just what he thought of his promises, when the accused man started violently.

The little girl stood meekly by Merlin’s side, eyes innocent and curious.

“You know the Great Dragon?”

Merlin looked stricken.

“Yes… Yes I do.”

“Is he going to come back?” she continued, expression anxious.

Merlin looked like he’d been kicked, but his gaze softened somewhat as he knelt down to meet her eyes.

“No, it’s ok. He was- he was a very bad dragon, so I sent him away…”

Arthur boiled over.

“YOU WHAT?!”

The girl squeaked, quickly scampering back to the crowd.

Merlin winced, realising his blunder.

“Uhhh sorry, did I say ‘sent away’?”

“You told me I bloody killed it!”

“That may not have been wholly true…”

“Apparently not! So you what? ‘Sent it away’?! You and I both know only a dragonlord could do that!” accused Arthur.

Merlin pursed his lips, fixing him with a remorseful and anxious gaze. The king searched his servant’s eyes in increasing disbelief, the man’s silence speaking volumes.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me… You?!” Arthur exclaimed incredulously, quickly reaching the end of his rope, “How is that even possible? Balinor said he was the last one!”

Merlin huffed a deep breath, carefully considering his next words.

“Balinor also mentioned that it was an ability passed from father...to son.”

Arthur's stomach backflipped. He didn’t like the implications of what Merlin seemed to be saying.

“He wasn’t,” he breathed, face ashen.

“He was”, confirmed Merlin, refusing to meet his eyes.

The king’s mind reeled. It couldn’t be right, but at the same time it made so much sense. Merlin had been weirdly anxious about their trip to find Balinor, and there was no denying that the dragonlord seemed to quickly develop a soft spot for the boy. It explained so much, even Merlin's reaction when Balinor had- 

Oh god... 

_No man is worth your tears._

Merlin had been mourning his father…

“Oh…” he stated weakly, his anger quickly diluted by guilt.

“Yeah…” replied Merlin sheepishly.

Arthur held his face in his hands. What did he even know about his manservant? First the killing, now this!

“My father ran your father out of Camelot; made his life a living hell," lamented Arthur, “This is all just so messed up!”

Merlin awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

Arthur huffed.

“A dragonlord?! Really?” he reiterated, tone still disbelieving.

“Trust me,” Merlin sighed, “I was just as surprised as you are.”

“And the dragon?,” he cut back, eager to get to the bottom of things, “You just let him go?”

Merlin cringed, eyes full of regret.

“You’d never have known, but he helped us so many times. It seemed only fair to do something for him for once. I never knew he’d do what he did, and for that I’ll never forgive him or myself. I was too naive to realise he was just trying to further his own agenda…”

Arthur sighed in exasperation. Of course. That sounded more like the Merlin he knew; always trying to help people. Apparently even dragons fell under his sympathy. While his anger still boiled at Merlin’s thoughtlessness, Arthur couldn’t help but breathe an internal sigh of relief at Merlin’s motives. His intent hadn’t been malicious, in fact, far from it.

Merlin cautiously searched his gaze, as if awaiting punishment.

“You don’t need to worry about him coming back. I promised Kilgharrah that if he ever returned, I would not show him the same mercy again…” assured Merlin, a coldness returning to his eyes.

“Kilgharrah? Actually wait, nevermind- I don’t want to know,” groaned Arthur, feeling the beginning of a headache coming on.

Merlin looked thoughtful. After a nervous glance at the increasingly gobsmacked knights, he turned to face the crowd, shoulders heavy with guilt.

“I won’t make excuses to you. My actions were inexcusable. All I have to give you is my guilt. You can never know how sorry I am…” 

The figures watched him with expressions ranging from quiet anger to acceptance, but none uttered a word. In silence they turned, disappearing into the sea of shadows once more; all except one. 

The little girl stood at the precipice of the crowd with an expression of quiet contemplation.

“I don’t think it was your fault Lord Dragon-man…” she decided, “Sometimes mean people can use your own niceness against you. Don’t talk to anymore mean people, ok?” 

Merlin gave her a sad smile.

“I’ll remember that… Thank you.”

The little girl gave a satisfied nod, before turning on her heel to scamper after the rest of the shadows.

\- - -

Merlin watched after her with an expression of sorrow, before letting his head drop to his chest. The amphitheatre grew heavy with a somber silence.

“You never would have told me, would you?” sighed Arthur, tone heavy with defeat.

“No, I don’t think I would’ve,” replied Merlin, not meeting his eyes.

Arthur could feel frustration eating away at him once more.

“Would you have ever told me about any of this?” he challenged, gesturing wildly to the sea of ghosts,” I feel like I hardly know you…”

Merlin winced, turning to face him with a heartbreaking expression.

“And that’s why I could never tell you,” he conceded..

Arthur’s expression softened, unable to withstand Merlin’s shattered gaze.

“Merlin, I never want you to feel that you can’t talk to me; to any of us, in fact! Mistakes are bound to happen when we don’t have people to talk to. As much as I might hate to admit it, you’ve stopped me making choices I’d regret, more times than I can count” Arthur pleaded, _And it breaks my heart that you don’t feel I could be the same for you_ , he left unspoken, betrayal heavy on his chest.

Merlin watched him with barely concealed guilt.

“I’m sorry Arthur… I was a coward and others paid the price. I shouldn’t have left you in the dark, but it won’t happen again, I swear on my name!”

Merlin held him in a determined gaze, yet something still flitted anxiously behind his eyes.

“Your name? Ha!” exclaimed a cynical voice from the darkness, “And when were you going to tell him your real one?”

Merlin whirled to face the crowd.

It felt like the floor had dropped from under Arthur as his eyes landed on the voice’s owner.

“Hello Emrys,” smirked Agravaine.

Arthur fought back a shudder. Never once had he stopped to consider what had become of his estranged uncle, but it seemed now that the answer was all too clear; a fact that Arthur didn’t stop to consider, his mind transfixed on the man’s words.

“Emrys?”, the king spluttered.

Merlin seemed caught between anger and fear as his gaze bore down on the traitorous noble.

“Merlin _is_ my real name…” he growled.

“Well it’s not what the druids call you!” leered Agravaine.

Arthur whipped his gaze to Merlin, who noticeable paled.

“The druids? What do the druids have to do with anything?” Arthur challenged.

Argravaine fixed him with a grin, far too mocking for a dead man.

“Oh, my dear boy, you haven’t heard? Your beloved Emrys is their leader; their king, if you will!”

Arthur wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

“Merlin? A druidic king?” he burst, “I think I would know if my own servant was some kind of cult leader!”

“Oh I don’t know Arthur,” Agravaine mused in faux innocence, “It wouldn’t be the first time someone close to you wasn’t all you thought them to be.” 

Arthur felt like he’d been struck, all hints of mirth falling from his features leaving untamed anger in its place.

Merlin stepped between them, falling directly into Arthur’s searing gaze.

“Please Arthur, I can explain!”

“You know, I'm not sure you can Merlin!” exclaimed a rapidly maddening Arthur, “How could you possibly explain _all_ this?!”

The lies were really starting to get to him. It just didn’t make sense. No ordinary man could be capable of all this. 

Merlin stared at him numbly, his eyes swimming with some internal dilemma.

“Arthur I-”

“Oh for God’s sake!” cut in Agravaine, “I think you both know that there is only one possible explanation for this; only one thing that could make any of this make sense!”

Arthur’s eyes were firmly fixed on Merlin, mind in stubborn refusal to acknowledge what his uncle was implying.

Agravaine strode forward with a malicious glint in his eye.

“The boy has magic…”

\- - -

Arthur felt his world shatter around him.. 

“No… NO! That’s not possible!” he roared.

But the devastated expression on his former friend’s face told a different story.

Arthur could feel betrayal and horror seize his heart as he unconsciously took a step backwards.

“This isn’t- This can’t be happening… Merlin, tell me it’s not true…”

His manservant didn’t so much as look at him, his entire form shaking.

“You have to believe me, I never wanted to lie to you,” he pleaded, voice small, “I didn’t have much of a choice… in any of this.”

Arthur wanted nothing more than to just curl up in a ball and close his eyes. Why him? Why did this keep happening to _him_? 

“I trusted you…” he whispered, voice breaking.

Merlin didn’t even try to hide the tears that now flowed freely down his cheeks.

Arthur wasn’t sure what hurt more; the fact that Merlin was the very thing he’d been taught to fear, or that fact that he hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him the truth. All Arthur knew was that he knew nothing…

“All this time, I never even suspected...” he lamented bitterly.

“Probably the only reason I’ve lived this long truthfully,” admitted Merlin, trying for a self deprecating smile, despite his tears, “You’d have had my head!”

“And with good reason,” sneered a hate-filled voice in the crowd.

Argravaine scowled in the voice’s direction before melting back into the shadows, but Arthur stood rooted where he stood, a primal panic overcoming him.

“There is no place for _sorcery_ in Camelot” growled an unmistakable voice.

The voice of Uther Pendragon…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh this can’t end well! Thanks for being so patient and for all the lovely comments, you guys make my day! I was loathed to chop Merlin’s part into two, but quite frankly he has a lot going on and I didn’t think one chapter did it justice. Sorry, not sorry for the cliffhanger! Next chapter is in the works!


	4. The Sorcerer's Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is not the man Arthur thought he was.

Arthur’s world was falling to tatters.

The air was suffocating. He breathed a ragged breath as frustration, betrayal and loss fought to coexist in his mind. He felt Leon move to his side, but his presence was far from comforting. He didn’t even need to look at the knight to recognise the anger and confusion that radiated off him; feelings that were dwarfed only by his own.

“Father?” Arthur whispered, voice broken.

The former king turned a steely eye on him.

“Hello Arthur.”

This couldn’t be happening. There was no trickery, only the crippling realisation of what Uther’s presence here meant. Arthur whirled his tormented gaze to Merlin, not even attempting to quell his rage as it boiled over.

“HOW COULD YOU?!” he bellowed.

Merlin stepped back unconsciously, eyes flashing with fear.

“I didn’t mean to!” he spluttered.

Arthur saw red. He’d trusted this man with his life, and this is what he got in return?!

“He’s a sorcerer,” growled Uther, “What did you expect?”

A rage-filled tear rolled down Arthur’s cheek. That was just the issue, wasn’t it? Perhaps he’d have expected it of some common magic user. Honestly, he’d have expected it of anyone; anyone, that is, but Merlin.

“Arthur please”, whispered the disgraced manservant, eyes willing him to listen.

Uther cast a disdainful eye over the sorcerer.

“And to think I had him at court this whole time…” he sneered,”All that time, poisoning your mind. Oh my son, how I failed you.”

Despite his angry heart, Arthur hesitated. As little as it seemed he knew about Merlin, something about his father’s words didn’t sit right. He didn’t miss how Uther’s gaze drifted to the knights. Arthur was struck with the uncomfortable impression that his father thought his knighting of commoners to be nothing but evidence of Merlin’s evil and manipulative ways. 

His brow creased. Merlin may have influenced his choices, but it had been far from ‘poisoning his mind!’

Catching on to the uncertainty, Merlin was seized with a burst of desperate determination

“If you’d just let me explain-”

“Enough!” Uther thundered, a murderous expression falling over his features.

Arthur frowned slightly, eyes thoughtful as he looked between the men.

“Wait... Let him speak,” he decided.

Uther glared at him in outrage.

“You’d really let this _fiend_ fill your mind with more lies!?” he exclaimed, a mad light in his eyes.

“I owe it to him as a citizen of Camelot”, Arthur stated coldly, gaze settling on Merlin, “Nothing more.”

The sorcerer stared at him with a mixture of gratitude and guilt, before taking a nervous breath.

“Uther was dying… You were desperate and magic was the only option,” he lamented, eyes searching his, “I wasn’t about to sit back and watch my… My best friend lose his father. So I disguised myself as an old man and offered my help. But, it all went wrong. I realised too late that Morgana had planted a trap; a pendant which reversed any effects on its wearer.”

Merlin looked up at him with sorrow filled eyes.

“I tried to heal him. I tried with everything I had… But the bracelet twisted my magic and turned it against itself. It didn’t heal him, instead it did the opposite…”

Arthur could feel his anger giving way to despair. He wanted to cry out at Merlin, but the fire in his chest had long since burned out. He knew he shouldn’t trust someone who had lied to him for so long, but the sincerity in Merlin’s voice was unquestionable.

“You were the sorcerer,” Arthur stated numbly, “Of course you were… God, I knew I recognised those eyes.”

His train of thought was rapidly derailed as Percival started forward, earning him a surprised look from both Arthur and Merlin.

“Sorry to interrupt sire- Uh sires”, he caught himself sheepishly before turning to Merlin with a mixture of awe and irritation, “But do you mean to tell me that you were Dragoon this _whole_ time?”

“Oh you’re kidding!” Arthur heard Elyan mutter behind him, connecting the dots.

Merlin blinked, caught off guard, before a meek smile snuck onto his face.

“Oh, uh whoops… I’d quite forgotten about all that.”

“You menace!” scoffed Gwaine, his voice worn, but far from angry.

Merlin chuckled nervously.

“I’d say sorry, but you guys really made it far too easy.”

Despite the tense atmosphere, the knights exclaimed in faux offense. All except Leon, who still looked rather pale as he stood by the increasingly confused Arthur. 

“Silence!” Uther roared, swiftly cutting off the chatter, his body practically shaking with anger.

“You would dare to take the word of a worthless servant- a _sorcerer_ , over your own king!?”

Merlin winced, but Arthur’s attention was quickly diverted by Gwaine who strode boldly forward.  
He cast Arthur a nervous look before returning his gaze to Uther.

“With all possible respect, you’re _not_ our king…” he declared, “Arthur is.”

Arthur stood aghast. Pride sparked in his heart, but he was too busy wondering where the last of Gwaine’s self preservation instinct had gone.

Uther looked about ready to explode.

“If my son were any sort of respectable king, he’d have your head!” he boomed, turning an accusing gaze to Arthur, “You see now how magic is corrupting my kingdom? Knighting commoners? Marrying a _servant_? This filth’s magic has corrupted you just as he himself is corrupted!”

“No…”

The former king turned his attention to the voice that dared to cross him.

“Excuse me?”

Merlin held his gaze with steely determination.

“I said no…”, he repeated firmly, “It is not magic that corrupts, but power!” he continued, casting a hopeful glance at Arthur, “Magic is no more corrupt than any other sort of power; And just like any other power, it can be used for good! Just as a king can help his people, so too can magic. Power of any form is a tool. It is only as bad as the person who wields it…”

Letting his words reverberate through the ruins, he gave Uther a pointed look.

Arthur gawked; and if the silence behind him was anything to go off, the rest of the knights were similarly struck. Merlin’s bouts of wisdom never failed to catch him off guard. Despite the unease which still writhed in his chest, he struggled to fault anything the man had said. But Arthur wasn’t the only one he needed to convince. 

His father’s face was red with rage.

“You think to sway me with your words, sorcerer?,” he hissed, “I know your kind. You’d stop at nothing to see my legacy destroyed!”

Merlin glared at the former king, eyes turning icy.

“I pity you Uther, I really do... You let your hate blind you. You were so determined to see evil and betrayal in your kingdom that you created enemies out of the very people who you could most trust.”

“What would you know of ruling a kingdom?” Uther scowled.

“Enough to know that a king should be respected, not feared!”

Uther’s tenuous grip on his composure finally snapped.

“Respect?! You know nothing of respect!” he roared, “Your kind are monsters who would see my kingdom in ruins! I was raised to fight for justice, just as I have raised my own son! If you think for a moment that he will spare you now that he knows of your treachery, you are sorely mistaken… He will see you burnt for your crimes!”

Arthur blanched. He’d always chosen to remember his father as a just and honourable man. It was jarring to be reminded just how far he had fallen into hysteria; Hysteria which was currently being directed at Merlin.

The man servant's eyes darkened, a twinkle of fear suppressed behind his gaze. The crazed king had hit a nerve. Uther’s face shifted into a victorious smirk.

“It’ll be a mercy when Arthur lights your pyre.”

“ENOUGH!” roared Merlin, his eyes blazing with gold as he stomped forward, sending a quake rumbling through the amphitheatre. The pillars shuddered, sending dust spiraling through the lone patch of light that illuminated the man. Awed silence fell over the ruins.

Arthur’s heart was in his throat. It was one thing to know Merlin had magic, but it was another thing entirely to see it. To think, he’d hid it all this time! Arthur took a deep breath, attempting to calm his frayed nerves. He had no doubt that this was a dangerous and powerful man; an image he struggled to connect to the ditzy servant who’d served him breakfast all these years. Was this the real Merlin? How much of him had been a lie?

The knights, overcoming their momentary panic, stared at Merlin in astonishment. Gwaine looked far more excited than he should have, given the circumstances, though Leon looked positively green. 

Uther, for all his dignity, looked as close to frightened as Arthur had ever seen him; and he had to admit guiltily, that it brought him a little satisfaction. But not nearly enough to distract him from the anxiety that crept up his spine as he stared at the sorcerer on the other side of the barrier.

Merlin stood in the centre of the amphitheatre, eyes dark and fists curled by his sides. His shoulders shuddered as he attempted to calm himself. Arthur wanted the old Merlin back.

\- - -

A lilting laughter echoed from somewhere in the crowd, jarring Arthur from his thoughts. Perplexed, and more than a little alarmed, he watched as a vaguely familiar woman stalked into the light.

“There’s that dark side,” she exclaimed, voice dripping with condescension.

A flash of wariness illuminated Merlin’s eyes before being replaced with a volatile mixture of anger and irritation.

“This just keeps getting better,” he muttered dryly to himself, before turning his full attention to the new spirit, “Would you learn when to quit?” Merlin growled bitterly.

The strange woman only watched on in apparent amusement.

“Given up saving face then, have we?” she taunted, looking ready to say more when her eyes fell on Uther.

If looks could kill, the stranger would have been dead many more times over than she already was. After a brief glimmer of surprise, her expression morphed into a venomous sneer.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Uther Pendragon himself...” she hummed, voice turning sinister, “Can’t say I thought I’d be seeing you again anytime soon.”

Merlin’s eyes lit with alarm as he stumbled out of the way of Arthur’s father, who charged bullishly towards the mysterious woman.

“You took _everything_ from me! You ruined my life!”

The woman disappeared in a puff of dust, only to reappear behind the hysterical king. She cast a pitying eye over the man as he whirled to face her.

“I think you’ll find you did that yourself…”

Uther seethed with rage, his entire body shaking as he surged forward.

“Why you-”

The stranger snapped her fingers, stony eyes flashing a dull gold. Uther crumbled mid-stride, ash falling where the ghostly man had previously stood.

Arthur shouted in alarm, rushing forward to the barrier. 

“What did you do?!”

The sorceress didn’t so much as look up, satisfied gaze fixed on the particles of still falling ash.

“Unfortunately, he’s fine. Being dead I’m reduced to only cheap party tricks.” she answered unhappily.

Arthur’s mind swam with questions. Who on earth was this woman, and what was her connection to his father? For him to react like that was terrifying. The anxious look on Merlin’s face did little to calm his nerves. 

The stranger finally looked up from the pile of ash, meeting Arthur’s eyes with a flash of familiarity.

“Oh”, she started, a sly smile creeping onto her face, “My my Arthur, haven’t you grown!”

Dread filled his heart, but Merlin was quick to grab his attention.

“Leave him alone Nimueh!”

 _Nimueh?_

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat, mind consumed by the crippling recognition of the name.

“You!?” he cried, anguish flashing across his features, “You killed my mother!”

Nimueh’s gaze turned stony.

“I believe you’ll find that to be your father’s doing,” she replied coolly,” Besides, without me you wouldn’t even be alive!”

She paused for a moment in contemplation, a smirk returning to her face.

“Actually, twice over now… Isn’t that right Merlin?”

Arthur could feel anger and torment simmering in his blood.

“Merlin, I swear to _god_ if you conspired with this monster, I will never forgive you.”

Merlin seemed to shrink somewhat under his gaze and Arthur’s heart broke just a little. Every time he came closer to understanding the man, something had to come along and shred that trust all over again. How could someone so apparently transparent, hide so much?

“I wasn’t left much of a choice,” Merlin mumbled, eyes downcast, “You were on death’s door. The old religion was the only answer.”

Arthur stared at him in suspicion. 

“When?” he questioned icily.

“After the questing beast’s bite...”

“What, and she cured me?!”

Nimueh crept forward.

“The old religion says a life may be traded for a life.”

Arthur blinked in confusion before balking as a realisation settled over him. He turned an accusing gaze to Merlin.

“You did not,” he exclaimed in exasperation.

His manservant’s silence was all the answer he needed. 

“Why on earth would a _sorcerer_ sacrifice his life for me?!”

Merlin met his eyes with cold determination.

“Because you’re my king… And more than that, you’re my friend.”

Arthur felt like he’d been slapped. His mind was alight with conflict. How could Merlin be so much the man he knew, yet also not at all? It didn’t make sense. His train of thought froze mid-track.

“Wait, but if you sacrificed yourself, how are you still here?”

Merlin cast a distrustful glare in the sorceress’ direction.

“I fell into the same trap as your father. It seemed I wasn’t specific enough in my terms,” he answered bitterly, “When I offered her a life, she decided it would be a reasonable idea to take my mother’s life instead. When I wouldn’t let that be, she tried to take Gaius’. But I wasn’t about to let that happen either…”

Nimueh stalked forward, a murderous glint in her eye.

“So instead he took my life in return for yours.”

Arthur shuddered; the idea that Merlin had killed for him still rested on his conscience with unease. 

“What’s it like knowing that such a dangerous sorcerer has been right under your nose all this time?”

Merlin’s expression turned cold.

“Last warning Nimueh. Leave…”

The sorceress only smirked. 

Merlin smirked mockingly back at her, eyes stony. Her expression quickly melted into fear as a rumble of thunder shook the ruins. Glancing around nervously, she gave the servant scowl before slinking back into the shadows from which she’d come.

Arthur and the knights watched after her with barely contained agitation.

The young king held a hand to his head. He hoped to god that was the last of them. He honestly wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. To think Merlin’s judgement would have been the most emotionally taxing out of everyone’s!

He sighed.

Merlin...

The man was an enigma. The magic had been shocking in and of itself, but he found his mind more caught on how little he actually knew about the man he’d called a friend. Try as he may, he couldn’t seem to reconcile this cold and defensive side of Merlin with the man he’d known for close to nine years. It felt as if he’d hardly known him at all!

Merlin seemed to sense his mental torment, but remained silent, simply staring at him with a worried expression. Arthur couldn’t help but be reminded that this wouldn’t have been easy for Merlin either. Unwittingly, his mind filled with concern for the servant. Had he even had anyone to confide in? To have kept so many secrets for so long had to be quite the burden. They really had to talk.

But once again Arthur’s chance to interrogate him danced out of reach, as a loud sigh sounded from the darkened masses.

Although he couldn’t see the source, Arthur stiffened in recognition at the voice that soon followed.

“Really Merlin?” the mellow voice teased fondly, “We have _got_ to stop meeting like this.”

Arthur’s heart almost broke as a regal looking man in a black cloak strode from the crowd.

Percival let out an involuntary gasp.

“Lancelot?”

Arthur felt nothing but guilt as he stared at the man. He’d long since learnt the truth behind the shade that had nearly destroyed his marriage, and his heart was heavy that a man so noble would have his name sullied as Lancelot had.

Apparently oblivious to Arthur’s turmoil, the knight turned a positively sunny gaze on his friends across the barrier.

“Long time no see…”

\- - -

The knights, ordinarily so chatty, stood in stunned silence.

Lancelot chuckled lightly, a cheeky glint in his eye as he returned his gaze to Merlin.

“You’ve really gotten yourself into a pickle this time,” he chided.

“Well I didn’t have your common sense to stop me, did I?” retorted Merlin.

“Finally ran out of your own then?”

Merlin didn’t answer, only staring at the knight with large sad eyes.

“You left me Lance…”

Lancelot’s gaze mellowed.

“I know, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intent to leave you without someone to confide in. I did what I thought was right. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d take your secret to the grave.”

Arthur spluttered, turning an incredulous gaze on the sorcerer.

“Wait, you mean to tell me that _he_ knew about your magic?” he exclaimed, barely able to keep a note of jealousy out of his voice.

Merlin awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Uhh yes. It was honestly a bit of an accident really.”

Far from appeased, Arthur huffed. But a dark idea had begun to take root in his mind. They had all been overlooking a key fact. Lancelot could have been anywhere, but he was _here_ among Merlin’s victims. That could only suggest one thing…

“You couldn’t let anyone know your secret,” Arthur muttered conspiratorially, thoughts snowballing, “Lancelot didn’t choose to enter that veil, you pushed him!”

Arthur regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

Merlin stared at him aghast.

“Wh-what?!”

The servant’s horrified floundering was immediately dwarfed by Lancelot’s booming laughter, joined by Gwaine moments later.

The mischievous knight wiped an amused tear from his eye.

“I think you’ve finally cracked! This is still _Merlin_ we’re talking about, princess!”

“God, for once I think Gwaine might be right,” Lancelot chuckled, “Merlin’s not that petty! I’d known about Merlin’s magic long before the veil! Did you really think it was just dumb luck that allowed me to kill the griffin?”

Arthur felt embarrassment colour his cheeks. That long? Maybe Merlin had been right not to trust him with his secrets. He’d only known for a few minutes and had already accused the man of cold blooded murder! Perhaps Lancelot really had just been a better friend.

The knight levelled a reassuring gaze at him.

“You’re not the only one who blames himself for things he didn’t do…” he explained.

“But I put the idea into your head!” Merlin cried, recapturing the knight’s attention.

Lancelot raised an eyebrow at him.

“Plan stealing bitch,” added Merlin bitterly, crossing his arms like an angry toddler.

Arthur stared at him in exasperation. Was he really suggesting what he thought he was? First with Nimueh and now at the veil; It was honestly starting to seem like Merlin had a death wish. Heck, he was a sorcerer living in Camelot!

Lancelot only shook his head fondly.

“You didn’t drive me to make that sacrifice, Merlin. You know I couldn’t stand by and let Camelot- let my friends suffer, if I could prevent it,” he gestured to the knights, “The choice was my own. I won’t have you blaming yourself for something I did. Besides, there is no one I trust more to protect everyone in my absence.”

Merlin bowed his head, attempting to hide the sadness in his eyes. Arthur was about to speak, when Leon crept forward, eyes wide and questioning.

“You trusted him? Even with his magic?” he asked, voice slightly shaky, but genuine in its curiosity.

Lancelot calmly approached the barrier.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he answered warmly, “After all, he’s still just Merlin.”

Arthur felt a shroud of guilt fall over him. Lancelot said it like it was so simple. His unwavering faith only served to shame every doubt the king still held. The ghostly knight caught his eye with quiet conviction.

“Merlin’s magic is just as much a part of him as his clumsiness, his loyalty, or even his terrible taste in fashion,” he explained, directing the last bit over his shoulder at the manservant.

“Hey!”

“That is to say,” continued the knight,”If any of us had to wield such power, I’m glad it was Merlin. I don’t know how far we’d have gotten without him.”

The ensuing silence only fed Arthur’s guilt. He sighed.

“So I guess all those visits to the tavern were a lie then,” he tried weakly, earning a surprised glance from the knights.

Gwaine eyed him cautiously, but Merlin only spluttered in surprised amusement, apparently caught off guard by the question.

“God, no one should leave Gauis in charge of making up excuses,” he chuckled nervously.

Arthur’s gaze softened slightly, a sad glint in his eye.

“You never told any of us... Never sought any credit. Why?”

Merlin looked up at him sheepishly, a spark of shame behind his eyes.

“I never wanted you to think any differently of me,” he sighed, sounding exhausted, “Initially I simply didn’t want to wind up on the pyre, but I misjudged you. You are a worthy king, Arthur, and although you can be a complete cabbage-head, you're also a half decent friend. I guess when it came down to it, I just didn’t want to put you in a difficult position. You didn’t deserve that from me…”

Arthur stared at his servant with wide eyes. That really did sound like the Merlin he knew. _Well of course it would_ , his mind scolded him, _he’s the same person!_ Arthur smiled slightly. Only Merlin would bind themselves to so much secrecy- carry such a burden, for the sake of someone else’s feelings. The lovable idiot lacked more self preservation instinct than even Gwaine. It was just so… Merlin.

Lancelot looked between the two men.

“You two are hopeless,” he snickered, before glancing back at the shadows, “I really should be on my way, but promise me you’ll keep out of trouble, won’t you.”

Merlin fixed him with a sly grin.

“Wouldn’t think of it!”

Lancelot rolled his eyes as he turned back towards the darkened masses.

“Wait!”

The knight turned to peer curiously back at the king who had called his attention from across the barrier.

“Thank you,” breathed Arthur.

Lancelot smiled, his eyes wistful yet warm. With a nod he strode confidently back into the crowd.

Arthur thought he heard a quiet sob behind him, but didn’t have time to investigate before the darkness began to fracture and crumble.

\- - -

All around the amphitheatre, the once intimidating shadows started to disintegrate. Ash and dust swept across the ruins like leaves in a windstorm, as the figures fell to pieces. Merlin and the knights could only watch on with fascination as the once darkened space filled spiralling cinders.

A soft light overtook the ruins as the wind calmed and the gloom cleared.

Cautiously, Arthur reached forward to where the barrier had previously stood, finding his hand met with nothing but open air. 

Meeting Merlin’s eye, he stepped forward.

Arthur tried to ignore how Merlin flinched slightly as the king strode determinedly towards him. The servant’s eyes were nervous, and it broke Arthur’s heart a little to see how ready the man was to accept his fate.

Merlin’s expression quickly gave way to shock as Arthur pulled him into a tight hug. Any panic that had been left in his eyes melted away, leaving only relief in its place. The servant struggled to blink back tears, dropping his chin onto the king’s shoulder as a small smile illuminated his face. A smile which matched Arthur’s own.

“Maybe you’re not quite the worst servant in the world.”

Merlin sniffled, a surprised laugh escaping him.

“Does this mean I get a day off?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait on this one lads! We're not done just yet. I promised some BAMFery, and intend to deliver. Rest assured the next chapter or so should be a lot more light-hearted! (Wow, remember when this was only going to be two chapters! Yikes)
> 
> Big thanks again to everyone whose taken the time to read and comment x


	5. Cataclysm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everyone is pleased by the turn of events.

The amphitheatre shuddered as a rumble swept through the ruins.

Arthur slowly released his grip on Merlin, casting a curious glance around the stadium. He gave the manservant a questioning eyebrow raise, but Merlin looked just as perplexed.

“Uhhh, that wasn’t me.”

Almost in response, the ground began to shake again, even more violently than before. With a growing sense of urgency, Arthur backed uneasily towards the rest of the knights, pulling Merlin with him. 

A bitterly cold wind cut across through the pillars and Arthur swore he could hear whispers rising from the darker patches of the room. Anxious, he moved to stand back to back with his men. Merlin stood defensively by his side, eyes scanning the amphitheatre as the howling of the wind joined the deepening rumble.

“You humans... always so forgiving,” sneered the mysterious voice, booming over the cacophony.

Arthur quietly swore to himself. With all that had been happening, it was easy to forget that they weren't alone. He’d thought it a trap from the moment they stepped foot in the amphitheatre, but he’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t held out hope that it was anything but that.

“We passed your test,” he tried, “What more do you want from us?”

A malicious laugh bounced off the marble.

Merlin gave him a pointed look, _really?_

“Well, it was worth a try,” Arthur mumbled sorely.

The voice sighed, their amusement evaporating.

“What do I want?” it repeated in feigned thoughtfulness, “Well it’s quite simple… I want your pain, your grief, your anger. Such sweet sorrow that you keep all to yourselves! How could I resist? Your secrets should have made for an easy meal. You should have torn each other to shreds! But no. You’re _above_ that aren’t you!”

Arthur wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but the shaking seemed to be increasing. He tensed with mounting dread. From the voice’s tone alone, he knew they were in trouble. 

But then, abruptly as it had started, the rumbling stopped.

The voice sighed in disappointment.

“It’s just too bad really... Looks like I’ll have to create my own pain!”

An ear-splitting crack echoed around the ruins.

Arthur lurched, struggling to stay on his feet as the quake returned with more force than before. Barely suppressing an annoyed growl, he shouted a retreat at the knights, who wasted no time in making a run for it. Twisting on his heel, he turned to follow after them, but hesitated when a chill ran up his spine.

The king paled, a shadow falling over him.

“ARTHUR! LOOK OUT!”

The air was knocked out of him as a force slammed into his chest. Briefly his dazed eyes met the tell-tale blue of Merlin’s, but he had barely a moment to react as he was forcefully thrust backwards.

Arthur landed heavily on his back with a pained shout. Eyes filling with panic, he looked up just in time to see the remains of a pillar come crashing down where he’d just been standing. White hot fear shot through his heart. The very same spot _Merlin_ had been standing!

“No, no, no, no, no…”

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder and the still crumbling ruins, Arthur stumbled desperately towards the destroyed column. Debris littered the ground where the roof had given way without the pillar to support it.

“MERLIN?!”

No answer. 

Arthur could feel his breathing quicken. With a cry of desperation, he flung himself against the pillar in a futile attempt to move the debris. This couldn’t be happening! Any second now, Merlin would appear at his side with that goofy grin and a kind-hearted insult on his tongue.

 _It almost looks like you care about me!_

The knights had frozen in their tracks, staring back at the scene in horror. Gwaine looked manic as he staggering back towards Arthur, only to be blocked by yet more falling debris; his grief-stricken shouts falling on deaf ears. 

Arthur staggered back from the wreckage with a frustrated cry. After all they’d been though, it couldn’t possibly end like this! He had so many questions, so much left to say. His vision blurred, tears filling his eyes. This time he knew he couldn’t blame the dust.

“That’s more like it!” praised the voice.

Arthur saw red.

“You know what? Fuck you! I don't know what you are and I don’t care what it takes, but I will personally ensure that you _never_ see the light again! Face me, you coward! FACE ME!”

The voice tutted in annoyance.

“Well perhaps since you asked so nicely…”

Atop the fallen pillar, the air seemed to shimmer and warp, shuddering to reveal a vaguely humanoid figure. It’s dark features shifted awkwardly as it phased between sharp metallic liquid and smoke. The only thing that Arthur could manage focus on was the creature’s silver eyes, which glinted with sadistic amusement.

“You know, maybe I’ll just kill you myself.”

Without a second’s hesitation, the being threw themself from the column, twisting through the air in an arc of disorientating danger. Time seemed to slow as Arthur desperately tried to draw his sword. But the look in the beast’s eye told him he was already too late.

A sudden flicker of energy crackled across the ground. The air hummed, ramping up in pitch causing the hairs to rise on the back of Arthur’s neck, before a blinding flash illuminated the stadium. The creature lurched violently sideways, colliding with the pedestal with a thunderous crack.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

A figure stood defiant at the base of the column. A nasty gash coloured his temple, but there was no denying the power that rolled off the man. Dust fanned out either side of him; rays of sunlight casting the illusion of radiant wings to match his already golden eyes. 

“Merlin…”

God, he'd never been more happy to see a sorcerer in his life!

Arthur reminded himself to breathe as Merlin made his way towards the creature, his feet not even touching the ground as he strode smoothly over the wreckage.

The being glitched and warped as it clawed unnaturally to its feet. Arthur swore he saw fear flashed in its eyes, but it was swiftly hidden behind a mask of cruel fury.

“What mortal presumes to deny me my prize?!”

Merlin paused, a slight smirk dancing across his face.

“Whatever gave you the impression that I was mortal?”

The creature’s face fell, terror falling over it’s features for barely a second before a spire of lightning ripped through the pedestal. Arthur flinched, shielding his eyes from the crackling beam of energy; a deafening boom echoing around the ruined amphitheatre. As the noise faded, he risked a glance at where the beast had once stood.

The ground was blacked, still sparking with static energy.

He turned his gaze to Merlin, utterly dumbstruck.

The servant had the audacity to give him a meek smile.

“Hello again…”

Arthur felt the need to say something profound, but unfortunately his words were missing in action. All he managed to muster was a rather undignified croak.

Luckily, neither he nor Merlin got the chance to dwell on it, as the sound of splitting rock jarred them from their stupor.

Merlin moved to his side, eyeing the remaining ruins pensively. 

“Looks like this place is coming down one way or another. Time to go!”

As if on cue, a shout reached Arthur’s ears.

“Over here! An exit!” hollered Elyan from an arch similar to the one they’d entered through, a hint of desperation in his tone.

Arthur glanced over to him, taking a sharp breath as he took in the distance between them. The walls of the amphitheatre were well and truly crumbling, taking down what few pillars still stood. The ground rumbled with the force of the falling debris and dust choked the air. There was no way they’d get that far in one piece!

The king felt a sturdy hand on his wrist as he found himself nearly pulled off his feet.

“Merlin! What in blue blazes are you doing?!”

Merlin ran, dragging the disgruntled Arthur behind him.

“Saving your royal backside, as always!” he chirped, a sly grin on his face in apparent defiance of their current circumstances.

For all the destruction around them, Arthur felt incredulous laughter bubbling up from his chest. Freeing his hand from Merlin’s grip, he scrambled to keep pace with the man. The two exchanged a competitive glance as they raced towards the exit. It almost felt normal. They could have easily been back in-

BOOM!

Oh nope, maybe not. 

Skittering sideways, the pair barely managed to dodge a huge chunk of collapsing wall. Quickly regaining their footing they continued their frantic sprint towards the relative safety of the knights, kicking up a trail of dust behind them. With surprising deftness they picked their way through the rubble, almost perfectly in sync as they hurdled over yet another crest of marble.

Arthur’s heart pounded as the exit got closer and closer. 

They must have been metres away when Leon shouted out in alarm. Following the knight’s line of sight, Arthur was met with the unfortunately familiar sight of a falling pillar. The column had cleaved, hurtling towards the very path they were chasing. _Oh no you don’t!_

The duo hit the deck, letting their momentum carry them under the falling rock with questionable grace. Arthur braced himself, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he hit something solid with a decidedly unkingly yelp; a yelp apparently mirrored by the thing he hit.

Untangling himself, he blinked owlishly.

A rather surprised Gwaine stared back at him with wide eyes.

“Princess?”

“Gwaine…”

A chorus of muffled groans to their right diverted their attention.

Quick to forget about his own situation, Arthur couldn’t help but laugh as he took in the tangle of limbs before him.

Only Merlin would be so unlucky as to take out not one, but three knights. The servant lay comically atop the pile of soldiers; who fortunately looked unharmed aside from their dignity. Arthur and Gwaine almost collapsed back onto the ground in fits of laughter as Merlin and the rest of the knights awkwardly untangled themselves and stumbled to their feet. It wasn’t long before they were all a mess of giggles, their king’s infectious laughter catching on. 

Relief flowed over Arthur as he looked over the group. Everyone looked decidedly worse for wear, but aside from a few scratches and Merlin’s head injury, they’d gotten off pretty lightly.

Arthur sighed, as the giggles began to peter off. He couldn’t help but feel like he was forgetting something. Something important… His thoughtful gaze landed on Gwaine.

The troublesome knight looked about ready to burst with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief, as he gestured wildly around the group.

“So are we just gonna ignore that Merlin mentioned he wasn’t mortal or…?!”

Oh, yeah… That.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love one (1) dramatic sorcerer. Honestly, couldn't resist a bit of an Indiana Jones moment! We finally get to see our mysterious beastie! It's description was based mostly on ferrofluid, cause why the hell not. Hope this was enough BAMFery to satistfy y'all. Just one extra chapter to go, to close everything out; a epilogue of sorts. To everyone whose gotten this far, I can't thank you enough!


	6. Epilogue: Fire and Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's well that ends well.

A warm fire illuminated the forested glade, the sun having long since set. The knights sprawled comfortably in the clearing, eyes dancing in amusement as Gwaine melodramatically rebuffed yet another of Elyan’s theories.

“You mean to tell me that you think if we chopped Merlin’s head off, he’d regrow his whole body from his neck?! Preposterous, he would simply reappear next to where he’d been in a puff of magic smoke! I’m sure of it!”

“What if he just grew a new head?” supplied Percival helpfully.

“We’ve been over this Percy,” shot down Leon with a scoff, “He’s not some kind of hydra… As far as I know.”

Merlin watched the debate spiral with amused discomfort.

“You do realise I’m right here?”

Gwaine paused, whirling to face his friend with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“And no,” added Merlin, an accusatory finger pointed at the troublesome knight, “I am not testing any of your daft theories. I quite like my head where it is!”

Gwaine huffed in faux disappointment, casting a helpless shug towards Elyan who shook his head in amusement.

Merlin smirked, his gaze wandering to the crackling fire.

“And here I was thinking that you’d just burn me…” he sighed, eyes reflecting the dancing flames.

He almost didn’t realise he’d said it out loud until the clearing quietened; the knights immediately sobering as Arthur sat up to meet Merlin’s gaze.

“You know we would never…”

Merlin nervously met his eyes, still not quite believing the apparent change.

“Are you sure you’re really ok with it?”

Arthur sighed, eyes drifting to the fire.

“I won’t lie, when I first found out, I was hurt; really hurt. But I honestly can’t say I would have done any differently in your place. You’re a good person Merlin, and a good friend. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have by my side. So yes, I think we’ll be ok.”

Merlin stared at him, eyes wide and watery; an irrepressibly smile peeking out from underneath.

“Besides,” continued Arthur with a playful smirk, “I’m not sure I could get rid of you even if I wanted to!”

“You’ve got that right.”

\- - -

Arthur chuckled lightly as he leant back, a far off look in his eye.

“Who’d have thought it huh?”

Merlin raised a quizzical eyebrow, a quiet smile still firmly fixed on his face as Arthur continued.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

An excited murmur went up from the knights, who made a big show of shuffling to sit around the pair like children listening to a bedtime story.

Merlin barely suppressed a snicker.

“You were a right prat, if I remember correctly. I stand by that,” poked Merlin.

“And you were an idiot!” laughed Arthur, disbelief still colouring his tone despite the years that had since passed, “Who walks into town and immediately insults the crown prince?!”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say our resident magical mischief maker,” answered a grinning Gwaine.

“Hey, you should have seen him!” retorted the servant, “He desperately needed to be taken down a peg or two!” 

Arthur scoffed in mock outrage.

“Merlin, you wound me!”

The sorcerer chuckled.

“Was I wrong? God, if only you could hear yourself!” he challenged, before comically puffing out his chest, putting on his best arrogant prince impression, “ _I could take you apart with one blow!_ ” 

Arthur rolled his eyes, grinning as he mustered his very best snivelling peasant impersonation.

“ _I could take you apart with less than-_ ” Arthur cut himself off abruptly, eyes widening with realisation, “Oh you son of a bitch! You have got to be kidding me! I just assumed you were making some sort of idiotic bluff!”

The knights burst into hysterics.

“And he finally makes the connection!” cheered Merlin, giving Arthur a mischievous smirk,”Did you never wonder how you managed to trip over so many random objects in one fight?”

“Why you-”

“You mean to say,” chuckled Leon, wiping a tear from his eye,”that you pretty much told Arthur you were a sorcerer right to his face, the very first time you met?!”

Merlin suppressed a fiendish grin as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“I think I'm finally starting to see what Gaius means about being more careful…”

The knights, having barely recovered from their previous fit, fell back into a sea of giggles. Arthur sat across the fire, arms crossed childishly as he shook his head with fond exasperation.

\- - -

Evening gave way to night. Warm and comfortable, the group of misfits hardly noticed the dark clouds which had settled over the sky above. A rumble echoed across the forest. The fire hissed slightly as the tell-tale pitter patter of rain filled the glade. A collective groan went up from the group as the forest began to crinkle with the sounds of raindrops on leaves. With varying degrees of haste they struggled to their feet.

“We better cross our fingers that there’s a cave nearby or it’s going to be a miserable one…” grumbled Elyan, already making to pack his gear.

Groaning in agreement, the rest of the knights followed suit; all except Arthur, who paused in thought before giving Merlin a curious look.

“You couldn’t- Y’know just-”

Arthur wiggled his fingers at the servant, an awkward expression on his face.

Merlin raised an amused eyebrow, mimicking the action with barely stifled snicker.

“Oh you know what I mean!” huffed Arthur, firmly shoving his hands into his pockets.

The sorcerer’s expression softened and he cast a thoughtful look to the sky before turning a questioning eye to his king.

“Go on,” pressed Arthur, a nervous giddiness hidden just beneath the surface.

By now most of the knights had caught on, pausing eagerly about the clearing.

Merlin took a deep breath before reaching his hand upwards. His eyes illuminated with brilliant gold as he snapped his fingers. Translucent golden plating raced upwards from the ground surrounding the glade, delicately clasping together to form an ornate roof over the stunned group. Merlin’s eyes faded back to blue as he slowly lowered his hand. The gold of the plating receded slightly allowing Arthur to see rain sliding off the transparent shelter above.

The knights stared upwards in stunned fascination, before lowering their gaze to the sorcerer.

“Um, ta da!” Merlin declared, displaying what had to be the world’s most unenthusiastic attempt at jazz hands.

The group just stared at him in quiet wonder. For all that they'd learned of the man in the last few hours, it still felt alien to realise such an unassuming character could hold so much power.

“That was amazing,” breathed Percival.

Merlin visibly relaxed, blushing profusely as a chorus of amazement and praise broke out among the knights.

Arthur’s heart warmed to see the joy in Merlin’s eye at being able to share this side of himself. He had to admit, he’d been nervous to suggest the idea, quietly expecting to be terrified by the malevolent power his manservant wielded. But all he’d felt, watching the golden dome gently arrange itself around them, was comfort. It almost felt familiar. A familiarity, he realised that had accompanied him into battle, that had calmed him in moments of fear. A familiarity that had always been by his side when he needed it most.

Involuntarily a smile split his face. 

Merlin blinked in bewilderment as his eyes met Arthur’s, a pleasantly surprised grin following seconds later. The king’s heart twisted slightly at the realisation that it had been far too long since he’d seen such a genuine smile on his friend’s face. Quiet determination settled over him. He would do anything in his power to ensure that Merlin never had to go it alone again; if only to see the man smile more.

\- - -

As the group settled back down around the comfortably dry clearing, Leon paused, curiosity sparking behind his eyes.

“Merlin… Back at the ruins, why didn’t you use magic to stop the pillar collapsing? Or the entire stadium for that matter?”

The still beaming warlock stopped in his tracks, eyes widening slightly.

“Uhhh… Habit?” suggested Merlin.

“You didn’t think of it, did you?” poked Leon, a smirk spreading over his face.

Merlin flushed slightly, folding his arms.

“I was under a lot of pressure, ok!” he complained, with little genuine frustration.

The knights struggled to stifle a chuckle.

Arthur snorted, unable to resist a jab at the manservant.

“Aww poor liddle Merlin” he cooed.

Merlin playfully tossed a stick at him.

“Maybe next time I’ll let your royal behind be minced meat!”

That earned another round of giggles from the group. Merlin sighed.

“Will there ever be a day I’m not the butt of the jokes?” he wondered aloud, eyes looking up at the sky as if asking some unseen force.

Arthur smirked.

“You could be the most powerful sorcerer in the world and we’d still find reasons to make fun of you!” he chirped, enjoying himself slightly too much.

Merlin spluttered slightly, managing to quickly regain his composure.

“Ha, yeah. I guess you’re right,” he muttered awkwardly.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the reaction, but thought better of provoking the servant. They’d definitely be having a word when they got back to Camelot.

“For what it’s worth,” piped Elyan, “I think it’s only fair that we get to mock you. You certainly didn’t hold back on the insults as Dragoon _the Great._ ”

Merlin’s nervousness immediately melted away, replaced with a dangerous glint of mischief.

“Well you shouldn’t have tried to stop me,” chastised the sorcerer. 

“Hey! For all we knew you were off to find Morgana!” retorted Percival.

“Funny you say that actually,” chuckled Merlin, “I was!”

The atmosphere immediately chilled. Arthur stiffened involuntarily.

“You what?”

Merlin looked around, eyes widening.

“Oh wait, I can explain,” he spluttered in slight amusement, realising the potential misunderstanding.

Arthur relaxed slightly, though his eyes still searched Merlin’s warily.

“Please do.”

“Well, remember that time we got separated in the Valley of Kings after I was injured by mercenaries? Everyone thought I’d died, until I showed up in a bog a week or so later.”

Arthur shuddered slightly.

“How could I forget?”

Merlin nodded.

“I didn’t simply disappear, I was- Well there’s no nice way to put it. I was kidnapped… By Morgana…”

Arthur paled.

“But how did you escape?”

Merlin refused to meet his eyes.

“In all honesty, I didn’t. She used dark magic to control my mind; tried to turn me into an assassin. She let me go only because my mind had been consumed with one purpose… Kill the king.”

Merlin unconsciously fidgeted with his hands.

“Fortunately, it turns out I’m a terrible assassin,” he continued with a dry chuckle, “My magic fought against the enchantment, preventing me from doing any real harm until Gwen and Gaius worked out what was happening!”

Arthur stared at the servant in horror. _Gwen never mentioned it… How didn’t I notice in the first place!?_

“In the end, Gauis discovered I would have to destroy the source of the dark magic, the original fomorroh, to free my mind. Which meant going back to Morgana’s hovel. Hence, Dragoon the Great’s mysterious mission.”

The knights gaped, as Merlin finished his tale.

“A _fomorroh?!_ ” squeaked Percival, recognising the name.

“Um, yeah,” replied Merlin, hand involuntarily drifting to the scar of the back of his neck, “Not an experience I would recommend.”

Even Gwaine looked pale.

“God, buddy. I had no idea!”

“And I had intended to keep it that way,” muttered Melin slightly self-consciously.

Arthur’s mind was reeling. The more Merlin spoke, the more he questioned just how little he knew of the goings on in Camelot. If something as major as a brainwashed magical best friend had escaped his notice, he dreaded to think what else had.

“This isn’t the only thing that has gone on unbeknownst to me, is it?”

Merlin at least had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Uh, no… Definitely not. You’re a real handful to keep out of trouble, if I’m totally honest.”

Arthur gave Merlin a half-hearted glare, as his mind raced to connect dots he’d never noticed before. He’d always considered himself to be lucky, but he was starting to realise that might not be entirely true. So many situations never quite made sense to him. Come to think of it, maybe he was lucky. Lucky to have Merlin by his side!

“The immortal army. They just sort of exploded for no apparent reason. That was _you_ wasn’t it?”

Merlin gave a slight smile at the memory.

“Lance and I emptied the Cup of Life. Without the cup they were nothing but empty shells.”

Arthur nodded, an expression of quiet realisation spreading across his face as more and more ideas sprung to mind.

“And the skeletons that attacked Camelot from within? It never quite seemed right when Morgana said it was her who stopped them…”

Merlin gave him a curious glance.

“Maybe you’re not quite as blind as I give you credit for.”

But Arthur was too far down his tangent to give pause.

“The dragon egg!” he exclaimed suddenly, “You’re a dragon lord. No wonder you were so interested in it! Oh, I’m sorry, you must have been devastated when it was destroyed.”

The man servant's eyes were round with faux innocence.

“Uh yeah. A real shame…”

Arthur narrowed his eyes, gaze equal parts demanding and curious.

“Merlin.”

The sorcerer’s innocent charade shattered immediately as a sly grin spread across his face.

“You know full well I couldn’t leave that egg there!” explained Merlin, his gaze softening slightly, “Not that she’s an egg anymore. Her name is Aithusa… I’m sure she’d love to meet you guys.”

On the other side of the clearing, Leon spat out his water. Arthur simply held a hand to his forehead.

“Of course she would. Of course you have another dragon. You know what, I’m not even surprised at this point.”

Merlin only grinned at him, taking slightly too much enjoyment from the situation. Arthur cast him a weary glower.

“When you said there was a lot I didn’t know, I thought you were bluffing!”

Merlin had the audacity to laugh.

“Why would I lie about a thing like that?!” he asked a cheeky smirk returning to his face, “You know me Arthur, I’m an open book!”

Arthur was unable to control an eye-roll as he shook his head. God, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever truly understand Merlin. But now that he thought about it, he didn’t mind that one bit. He shook his head again with a disbelieving chuckle. What he’d done to earn the loyalty of such a person was beyond him. 

Reaching across, he gave his friend a gentle punch in the arm.

“Idiot.”

“Prat,” smirked back the sorcerer, with practiced ease.

With a ruffle of the servant’s hair for good measure, the king relaxed, lying across from Merlin by the smoldering remains of the fire.

Merlin would never seek recognition, Arthur knew that. But he wasn’t about to let him go underappreciated. His brow furrowed in thought as he toyed with an idea in his head.

Court sorcerer… Now that was a title he hadn’t heard in a while.

It was Arthur’s turn for a mischievous smile to creep over his face. All those fancy clothes, the feasts… Merlin would hate it. The perfect reward and the perfect revenge. 

Merlin eyed him warily across the fire, but Arthur only grinned wider. 

“Say Merlin, how would you feel about a promotion?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! I want to say the biggest thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, comment and just generally be wonderful human beings! I never thought I'd write fanfiction in my life, but you guys have been more than welcoming!


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